My Suicide Story

  January 13th, 2019 by hurtlittlegirl

I’m perfect. I have the body every girl wants, I am crazy smart, and I play a lot of sports. I was only in the seventh grade and I would wake up 5:30 everyday, even on weekends just to go to my volleyball, boxing, basketball or whatever it was sport practice. I got 80% or above in any subject, and I actually understood what the frick I was doing in my math class. I had friends, a loving family, and I lived in a community that loved and accepted me for who I was.

I hated it. I wear clothes that fit in my breast area and loose in my stomach area so my belly fat doesn’t show. I spend 3-4 hours sleeping to make sure I am top in class, my friends and family is constantly judging things I do, and are always spreading negativity towards me. I wake up early and pretend to work out, but then in reality I would just sit in my balcony doing nothing but stare at the sky. Sometimes I wondered what it would be like for wings just to sprout out of my back and I could fly, fly anywhere in the world. I’d fly toward the sun, just close enough so I’d always feel warm, but not so hot I’d burn.

Now, where do I begin? I tried to kill myself in 2018 when I was 12! Ha, who does that? Oh yeah, me! I guess it all started when I couldn’t go to boxing anymore because of my shoulder injury. Boxing was the only sport I actually cared about. Others I went just so I could hang with friends, because they never invited me anywhere else! Toxic relationships, am I right? Anyways, when boxing went away, I had a lot more free time. I realized at this point maybe, instead of waiting for my friends to invite me to places, I should invite them. After a couple hundred times of them rejecting me with lazy excuses, I low key got the memo. I started realizing how, they would give ‘the stare’. You know ‘the stare’ where they look at you with pure disgust, they never listen to your opinion, your always walking behind them in the sidewalk. But whatever, I could deal.

My parents are great, except I realized how they never really talked to me? I have trust issues with my family because my uncle molested me, and I feel if I tell them that they would tell me to cover up more you know, the regular victim blaming. Because they always victim blame.  There was never a day where my mom taught me to always act like others! Weird right? Because parents are suppose to encourage kids to be their selves. Well No! My mom is the exact opposite, she says to act like how others are acting around me. They’re homophobic and low-key sexist too, so yea.

Anyways I started to realize how literally worthless I was. I was no use to anyone. I thought everyone hated me. I used to believe in god. Until he decided to give me depression, anxiety and suicidal thoughts on a silver plate. Whatever. I felt really empty. Like very , very worthless. I started crying so much. I hurt so much, and I told no one. Being perfect has it’s consequences Like for example, if you tell anyone your problems, they will look at you with pure disappointment before saying, “You wouldn’t know a real problem if it hit you in the face.” I couldn’t talk to people without somebody judging me. (I’m crying a bit at this point btw) But you know what hurt the most? The area right below my thumb, whenever I laid  in bed and cried it would hurt so, so much. To this day, when I press on the area, it still hurts a lot. Anyways, I started to feel less pain and more empty. I faked my feelings so much, I was practically an actor.

I then started scratching myself. In the shower I would scratch my legs till they bled, I was so sad once I scratched my arm. I blamed it on a burn.

One day, I started thinking things like, “Hey you know what I should kill myself” Yea, I went there. And no one knew I was there. I was so alone on my journey. Don’t get me wrong. I wanted to speak, but every time I opened my mouth to say something, I felt like a burden. The person I would talk to would just say, “You wouldn’t know a real problem if it hit you in the face.” What is wrong with people? I actually have a problem with being human. We will always having problems, every single human has problems, and only some people have to take that problem and create it into something bigger, a smaller amount of people will have to keep that problem. That problem is literally depression, only some take it so far to suicide.

Anyways, enough about my actual depression, let’s sink into suicide. Wait sorry, never mind. I’ll do it tomorrow, I have to sleep now.

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